Page 34

Flipping over, I pushed myself up and fled.

More shrieks pierced the Hollow, followed by a pained gasp that sounded an awful lot like Rook.

I ducked behind a trunk and held my chest, recovering my breath.

Though the Hollow was silent, that cry haunted me.

It was probably the Watcher, still imitating Rook.

But…what if the creature had slipped from Rook’s grasp and injured him?

What if the Watcher possessed some trick, some weapon we didn’t know about?

I have to go back!

But what if I find the Watcher, victorious over the Hound’s corpse? Rows of teeth floated through my mind, and I hesitated.

Rook might be hurt!

It was the image of Rook gasping for air that hardened my resolve. Palming my blade, I readied to go after him…

A hand slammed against the tree above me, sending splinters raining down. Rook crept around the trunk, keeping so close I tasted copper on his breath. He was naked, and his eyes, frenzied with bloodlust, were only inches from mine.

“R-Rook?” I stuttered and backed against the tree.

Seemingly unaware I’d spoken at all, Rook stared at my neck.

His nostrils flared, and he drifted forward.

“Rook,” I warned, raising the knife. With a grunt, Rook knocked the knife clear out of my hand.

His palm skirted my cheek, and his fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back.

Then, Rook went for my throat.

“Agh—”

Rook’s hand muffled my cry. Warm breath ebbed up my neck as he moved, so close his lips brushed my skin.

“Sh sh sh sh,” he growled. He dragged his fingers down my lips, along my throat, and held my breast. Rook grazed my ear, and sounding so much like the wind whispering through the leaves, he murmured:

“I will have you.”

A tremble of longing shook me, and I pressed into Rook’s hand. A satisfied groan rumbled through his chest. I leaned to kiss Rook—but he pulled away. He knelt, catching the hem of my dress as he went. Bunching the skirt, Rook said, “Hold this.”

I did as I was told.

In one quick movement, Rook ripped my undergarments. He tossed them aside, and buried his face between my legs.

This time, I stifled my own cry.

I squirmed against Rook’s tongue—so wet and hot and hungry .

Rook gripped my hips; every ounce of his strength forbid me from escaping his mouth.

“Rook!” I begged, feeling the pleasure spilling down my legs.

But Rook didn’t stop; he devoured me as if he were starved, as only someone who’d suffered an enduring hunger might.

Only when the pleasure was nearly cresting, and I thought that bliss would wash through my body, did Rook pull away.

On his knees, Rook dragged a forearm across his lips. It was Rook at my feet, I knew that. But, there was something about the tilt of his head, something not entirely human, that made me wonder: Is it only Rook? Or is that glint in his eye the beast, begging to join us?

Rook’s fingers curled tighter around my hips.

And he smiled.

Leaping to his feet, Rook spun me around roughly. I braced against the tree and Rook slipped a hand around my throat, as if some part of him expected me to flee.

A pack of wolves wouldn’t frighten me away.

Spreading my legs, I met Rook’s gaze over my shoulder. I pressed against him, and he groaned. A casual observer might have mistaken the look in Rook’s eyes for anger—a furious rage. But I saw it for what it was.

Lust.

After so much restraint, Rook unleashed a lifetime of desire as he slammed into me.

The force sent me forward, but Rook’s grip on my throat kept me against him, preventing my escape.

Warm satisfaction swelled within me. Rook’s free hand snaked down, settling between my legs as he thrust into me again.

“Say my name,” Rook ordered.

His lips were so close, commanding me to submit. At my front, Rook’s fingers moved between my legs, rubbing me relentlessly. Behind me, Rook thrust again. My legs buckled, and it was only his strength keeping me from falling.

“Rook,” I cried, fighting the irresistible pressure building within.

“That’s not my name,” Rook snapped, pushing into me so forcefully, I gasped. With each stroke, the inevitable crept closer. Rook’s fingers strummed me, teased me, begged me to release into them. To let that wave of bliss wash over me—

“Don’t you dare!” Rook growled, stopping me—stopping the pleasure from taking me. “My name,” he demanded. “Say it!” The hand at my throat slid up, forcing my head sideways. Through a tangle of dark hair, Rook’s fervent eyes captured mine. “Look at me,” Rook growled. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” I moaned. More than anything .

“You want me, you will take all of me.” Rook plunged into me, sending sweet satisfaction rippling through my body. “Now,” he commanded, punctuating his words with rough thrusts, “Say—my—name!” He buried himself inside me—giving me everything I needed.

The euphoria started and I slipped into a well of pleasure so deep, it curled my toes. Distantly, I was aware of myself, moaning one word.

“Everard.”

His name barely left my lips when a cry left his. Trembling, Rook kissed my neck, he breathed, “Liliwen.” I savoured the ways his arms—like granite—wrapped around me. Tremors wracked his body as waves of ecstasy rushed through him too.

Even as he regained control of his spasming body, Rook refused to let go, wanted to remain in the glow of unity for as long as we might.

Finally, Rook fell, dragging me into his lap as he went. Through heavy breathing, he planted soft kisses on my forehead.

“Come back,” I murmured. “Have dinner with us.”

Rook’s eyes flitted down, meeting mine. “If my life depended on it,” Rook panted, “I would not leave you.” I felt a tear well along my lash and fall down my cheek. Rook smiled and used a thumb to brush it away.

Leaning his forehead against mine, he whispered, “I am your obedient servant.”